Stone Circle all the time that we wasted

Artyom eased to a careful halt as Dawn did, gaze studying unfamiliar territory beyond the invisible border line that belonged to wolves of Easthollow. A golden lobe swivelled smoothly in his mate's direction as she canted her muzzle skyward and sent forth a summons, one that he felt the urge to join with, but resisted to keep an eye out for the sign of another's approach.

He felt his mate settle alongside him and turned his head to look upon her, concern present in the shine of his warm eyes. They asked a silent question she was probably sick of hearing by now: are you okay? She would tell him yes, no doubt, attempt to reassure him with that lovely smile, but he would worry still.